


Nothing We Can't Share

by starsandgraces



Series: The Hunters [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandgraces/pseuds/starsandgraces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison patches Lydia up after a hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing We Can't Share

**Author's Note:**

> Future fic in which Allison and Lydia are roving hunters, keeping the peace between werewolves and humans. Set ten to twelve years in the future, when they're in their late twenties. Written for prompt 4 (Scars) from [fullmoon_ficlet](http://fullmoon-ficlet.livejournal.com/).

"I loved that top," Lydia says mournfully, trying to look over her shoulder at Allison. The top in question lies shredded and bloodied in a trash bag, ready to be disposed of when they leave in the morning.

"Hold still. You might be immune, but that doesn't mean this won't get infected if I don't clean it out." Allison's hands are cool and deft as she probes the scratches across Lydia's back, checking for debris before she washes out the blood and disinfects them. Four neat rows of butterfly stitches and she's finished. "All done."

"Good." Lydia stretches and hisses a little through her teeth. "It'll scar?"

"Probably."

"I always wanted a memento of Valentine, Nebraska."

Allison curls her arms around Lydia, resting her palm lightly over the sunburst of scarring on her side. The bite that changed everything when Lydia was fifteen left its mark permanently on her skin.

"If I weren't immune I might have changed and that wouldn't be there now," Lydia says, turning in Allison's arms and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"If you weren't immune you might have died," Allison reminds her quietly. "And a hundred times since then."

Guilt rolls over Lydia. She sometimes forgets how Allison's mom died and gets flip about being bitten because her immunity only strengthens with exposure. Allison may have fewer physical scars than Lydia, but she has just as many mental wounds. Life moulded them for each other that way.

"We're making sure that won't happen to anyone else," she says with a toss of her hair. It's a mistake; it sends a prickle of pain along the scratches, and Lydia winces.

"You should go to bed," Allison says.

"We should go to bed."

"To _sleep_ ," she clarifies, but it's too late. Lydia has the look in her eyes that says she won't be denied, and she emphasises it with a hungry kiss. She's already stripped to the waist, and it's the work of a few moments for them both to shed the rest of their clothes.

Lydia, mindful of her back, positions herself in Allison's lap. She wraps her leg around Allison and rocks against her thigh, cupping the back of Allison's neck as they kiss. Lydia's other hand strays down, past the coarse, dark curls to Allison's cunt. She's wet and inviting, but Lydia restrains herself and instead strokes the tips of two fingers up and down the seam of her labia. It would be nothing to press a little harder, to slide her fingers into the heat between Allison's lips and find her clit, but Lydia resists.

Allison trembles under her touch and slips her tongue into Lydia's mouth, kissing her slow and deep. Her hips move with little jerks towards Lydia's fingers, begging wordlessly for more. Her hands are careful on the small of Lydia's back as she holds her up and urges her down.

They find each other's scars with featherlight touches, and the smooth skin between them as well. Everything is slow and measured between them now, searching more for pleasure than orgasm. Lydia focuses on Allison for as long as she can, putting her fingers exactly where she knows Allison likes them most.

After a while, though, the insistent slide of Allison's thigh against her clit draws Lydia to the peak and eases her over the edge, all the tension in her body releasing at once. She lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

Allison comes as well, with three of Lydia's fingers inside her and the pad of her thumb teasing her clit. Her fingers clench around Lydia's hips, holding her steady as Allison lies them both back onto the mattress.

They stay like that, wordless. They don't need words.


End file.
